The adult child.

On Sunday morning, we escaped the rainy weather by going to the Newcastle museum to enjoy a coffee and the indoor toddler play area.

The play area is set up with lots of foam toys, a plastic slide and climbing gym and a couple tower type structures which house a little trampoline. As I was sitting on the sidelines while Chris looked after Hugo, another father became so enthusiastic with the play equipment that he decided to swing himself onto the little trampoline before hoisting his son up with him. They both then stayed in there for quite a while. In fact, they were both still in there when we left.

My first reaction was to be slightly annoyed by the whole thing. I wasn't sure it was really very safe for a grown man to sit on a net clearly designed for the use of children. I also found that by taking up all the space available, he was making it impossible for any other child to use it.

I think that mainly though I was annoyed by what it says about a parent's role today. Are we really supposed to play like our children or is supervising with a little enthusiasm enough?

In principle, I don't have an issue with people releasing their inner child onto the rest of us. I'm sure this man's son enjoys it immensely but I do wonder what the effect of the 'parent as entertainer' is on the child's independence and imagination.

We seem to live in a society that is terrified of boredom. Children especially should never be bored and as a result, an endless selection of activities, all structured and supervised, is on hands to avoid boredom at all cost. Sadly, this also means that children are rarely left to play alone and unsupervised and as a direct result, they rarely experience the excitement of inventing their own game, making their own discoveries or inhabiting a world that they can truly make their own.

Why? Because their parents are always in the way. We are constantly told as adults that our children's stimulation is paramount so we start waving rattles and flash cards in their tiny faces the moment they are out. It never really stops after that and with a fear of setting the child back, in relation to his peers, parents have turned all of their attention on the entertainment and education of their children, day after day.

And I think this is partly why we find grown men in kids' trampolines. Because we are told so much that we have to engage with our children, ALL THE TIME, that we don't even know when to take a step back and simply watch them figure out how to get in there in their own time and under their own steam.

I have figured out a simple rule for how to manage the fine line between encouraging independence without being completely oblivious to Hugo's needs. I try not to help him too much with play equipment he wouldn't know how to use by himself. I figure that if he can't climb this or swing off that without my help every step of the way, then, he probably shouldn't be using it because it was likely designed for an older age group.

If he is trying very hard and almost managing to tackle something new, I'm happy to give that last little push and get him up there. I know that next time, he'll manage on his own but I didn't deprive him of the importance of trying by himself first. Even with a little help, that last accomplishment is his and I want him to enjoy the satisfaction. I also know that next time he won't need or want my help.

As long as I'm looking back when he turns around with a beaming smile, he'll know I'm there without having to be right there. If he can get in there, he can have the trampoline!

Dusting off the old SLR.

In my quest to do things better and more mindfully, I have pulled out our trusty digital SLR camera to take photos at home. I'm feeling pretty rusty but enjoying the process nonetheless. The photos, although still far from great, are already much more beautiful than iphone pix. Here are a few from the last week's attempts... to be continued (and improved). It helps to have such beautiful subjects though.

Learning to play.

With a second child, it has become more important than ever for Hugo to spend some time playing on his own.

At the moment, he does it a tiny bit but usually if we are home, he is constantly demanding that I play with him, whether that is running around on his hobby horse or building towers of blocks.

We think that play is completely natural to children and to some extent, it most definitely is. Every single thing Hugo does throughout the day is a form of play, from brushing his teeth, to squishing his food, mopping the floor or swinging from the kitchen bench. He plays to learn, understand how things work and replicate what he sees us doing.

However, I have made the mistake of sitting him in front of a pile of playdough and expected him to just know what to do with it. He doesn't and in fact, needs me to demonstrate how it's done. So as I form a ball, or roll a long worm or cut it into a particular shape, he watches and learns. From there, he can replicate and expand thanks to his own imagination. Without that initial input from me though, he loses interest almost instantly.

I remember reading about the Montessori approach at one stage and was struck by one of the sentences I read. It was about following the child's lead and letting them play alone. In order to insure the children learn as they play, the toys are designed to make it clear when it is being used incorrectly, thus leading the child to discover the correct way of using it.

With playdough, there is no right or wrong way but as I sometimes struggle to think of what else to do with it besides a ball or a worm, it's understandable that Hugo wouldn't have a clue either. We are both learning (or re-learning) to play.

I am also trying the approach of limiting and rotating the toys that are accessible at any given moment. The idea being that too many choices are overwhelming and don't necessarily encourage active play.

This morning, I set up his little tea set on his table and we spent a while preparing and drinking imaginary cups of tea, pouring water, adding sugar and milk, stirring and so on. We also offered tea to some of his toys as I thought he might enjoy doing that on his own later.

Well, lo and behold, a little bit later, when I was changing Eloise, I spotted Hugo quietly serving tea to his hobby horse. I had to smile (and give myself a little pat on the back).

If I'm completely honest, I don't find many of Hugo's current games and toys particularly exciting but if a little more effort from me means that he will learn to play on his own more and rely less on other forms of entertainment (ie. technology), then, I am quite prepared to make that effort.

And anyway, that little tea party we had was rather lovely.

The excitement of familiarity.

As a young adult, I remember feeling easily bored and would find myself struggling to think of something to do that I would find exciting. I can see now that this was probably more a reflection on my own lack of resourcefulness than an absence of stimulation around me.

I feel that I have started to outgrow this. I don't feel like I need new things and experiences all the time. I can enjoy very simple things like silence, a cup of tea or a moment alone. I don't need anything extravagant to be happy.

Some people never outgrow the need to be constantly seeking that next thrill, always searching for the next best thing.

I think that we tend to transfer this idea that only new things are exciting to our children as well, from constantly buying new toys to seeking out new (and often expensive) experiences. Disneyland comes to mind.

I have fallen into this trap more than once. The latest was his second birthday party which I almost regretted organising the minute it started. It all went fine with all of his 'friends' and mine showing up, about 15 children and their parents in total, but Hugo didn't really enjoy it.

He seemed confused and overwhelmed by the crowd. All his usual playmates were here but in the confusion, he probably couldn't enjoy any one's company in particular.

I organised the party with the intention of surprising him and thinking that he would have a blast. In the end, I realised that he was probably too young to understand the intention and rather than engaging, he withdrew.

In contrast, Hugo becomes overjoyed with some of the most mundane parts of the day.

Bath time has him jumping up and running to the bathroom where he has an elaborate ritual of undressing and choosing his favourite toys. Brushing his teeth, taking the bins out, putting toys away, kissing everyone good night, saying goodbye to people and things, and other totally banal (to us) events are completely thrilling to him.

What I have come to understand is that Hugo is thrilled when he knows what's coming next. He loves familiar routines because they give him a sense of control he seldom gets. And since he knows what to do, he enjoys the positive reinforcement he receives when he does something right.

Although we repeat many of the same activities throughout the week, he doesn't necessarily know from one moment to the next where we are going or what we are doing. He just gets told to have his nappy changed, go to bed, eat his dinner, get on his scooter and go to the park, play with Jack or Elinor and so on.

He rarely makes any decisions on how to spend his time so it is understandable that when he does recognise what we are doing, it allows him to anticipate what is happening next. That feeling of control must be a nice change from always being surprised.

After all, it took me several months to let go of the control I thought I had on my life and let Hugo's needs and demands as a baby dictate the flow of the day. It wasn't easy and so as I had to unlearn this, he is just getting a taste of it.

We are creatures of habit. It is what we seek and what we thrive on in the long run. Not the unexpected.

Reading books before bed.

Hugo & Eloise.

One of the most rewarding and beautiful things about having two children is to watch their relationship develop.

With Eloise still being so young, it's mostly a one way street at the moment but it's already fascinating.

Far from the jealousy and tantrums we are all made to expect when a toddler gets a sibling, Hugo's calm and affectionate nature continues to enchant and amaze us.

His affection for Eloise keeps growing. From gentle pats and forehead to forehead "kisses", he has now been asking to hold her. Once she is carefully positioned on his lap, he caresses her head softly or just gazes at her. This only lasts a short time before he is ready to move onto other games but it's clear he enjoys the responsibility and the experience.

He also enjoys imitating and helping us, patting her when she cries, handing us her diapers and dictating where she should sit, lay or sleep. In the car, he leans over from his seat to hers to hold her hand.

We're not the only ones Hugo imitates. Once in a while, he starts moaning, pretending to cry and comes over for a hug, resting his soft head on our shoulder or lap.

I cannot describe how proud I feel of him and the way his gentle and caring nature is shining through at a time where he learns to share his parents' affection and attention. He is truly a gift and not least to Eloise who, I can only hope, has a friend for life in her big brother.

A period of growth.

I have just rediscovered this post, written a couple months ago and never posted. It's interesting for me to read it now and remember exactly what headspace I was in when I wrote it. In some ways, life is easier today than it was then. There is plenty to do but our lives feel less pulled apart between children, work, renovations and everything else we were trying to finish before the birth of Eloise.

I still think of this time I have ahead of me with the children as an opportunity to grow, rather than to shrink. I hope I can realise it.

_____________________________________

I've been a little in the dumps recently.

It's not due to a single factor but rather a combination of many things. Moving into the later stages of pregnancy and the physical exhaustion that comes with it, a busy and changing toddler to entertain and wrangle, house renovations which take up any spare moment Chris might have when he isn't working full-time, the heat, constant pain in my hips and a justified amount of fear at the thought of everything I have slowly regained and am about to give up again for a while.

I am ending this pregnancy in a very different mindset and context to the last time when I was very busy getting work done, fostering a thriving social life, taking refreshing dips in the ocean every morning and evening, enjoying the good life while we could...

This time, I am in the unpleasant situation of trying to get paid for work I did months ago, my social life is alive but less varied, and going to the beach has turned into an exhausting expedition that usually leaves me feeling more depleted than refreshed.

In other words, I have been in the dumps because all that is 'gone' - even temporarily - seems to be standing in the way of all I have gained. And I have gained a lot!

In any case, the power of the mind to find the light is inspiring as I asked myself how I could turn this time into something positive, enriching and inspiring not only for my children, but for myself too despite having limited access to work and free time.

I asked myself if the next two years could somehow become a time of personal growth, which would help me feel ready for the aftermath of raising small children. A time to grow skills and confidence in areas I haven't been able to fully explore until now. A time to help me feel prepared and in control of what happens after.

This is a chance. With full-time work, Chris would be hard-pressed to find the time to explore other skills and interest. He simply wouldn't have the time or inclination to add more to his already full schedule. He's lucky if he managed to go kayaking a couple of times a week.

My plan might be a little ambitious for the next few months as we re-adjust to broken sleep and the demands of a growing baby with a toddler on top of it but I have a few ideas of which skills I want to develop and this gives me focus. It gives me the impression that I am planning ahead and that when the time comes, I won't be standing there with two kids at the school gate and not the slightest clue of what I am supposed to do with myself.

The best possible start.

Eloise's birth and my subsequent recovery went as well, or even better, as anyone could have expected. It went so well, it barely seems real.

Eloise herself has been the perfect baby. She was born knowing what she had to do: feeding, sleeping and eliminating well. This is all one can ask for and as we know with newborns, that is already plenty.

Our days, although predictably busy, have felt calm and settled. She sleeps and feeds intermittently, her needs and schedules moulding themselves around Hugo's. Our nights, although predictably broken, have still afforded me with enough rest to function through the day. That is a lot more than a lot of people dream of.

I've also had plenty of support. Between my mother (+ step-father) and Chris, as well as our friends and more remote family members, I have felt surrounded by love and affection, as well as supported through the day and night with the more practical side of things.

The help, and more importantly the company, have helped me get to today, five weeks in and on my own again, feeling calm enough, confident enough and enthusiastic enough to keep building on as I settle into a routine where as an adult, I am the minority.

As I get through each day, I will remind myself of my mum's advice to do everything slowly and Chris' reassurance that he doesn't expect me to achieve much!

I will also keep the following words in mind,

"The days are long but the years are short."

Miss Eloise at one month.